Page 1 of Sweet (Chicago Underground 7)
Chapter One
I unwrapped the brace from my knee, wincing at how bad it looked underneath. About as bad as it felt. A puffy mass of pain that I would pretend didn’t hurt so my brothers wouldn’t worry.
Very soon I wouldn’t need to hide. I wouldn’t need to hurt.
My end goal was simple, modest even. A ballet teacher with a small studio. An apartment nearby to put up my feet after work. And if it were lonelier that way…well, that was the price of exit.
Lindsey whistled as she slumped onto the locker-room bench beside me. “I really want to complain about my ankles right now, but after seeing your knees, I think I’ll just count my blessings.”
“Glad to be of service. Now, do you have good news for me?”
Lindsey was in the corps de ballet, a position for newer dancers within the company. Not as stressful as a principal, perhaps, but the pay was almost half, so many of them had side jobs to complement the paltry salaries.
She was a part-time real estate agent, and I’d enlisted her help in finding the right spot for my studio. So far the available spaces had been too large, too far outside Chicago proper, too expensive.
“You’re going to love this one, promise. Not only is the rent midrange, but it used to be a yoga studio, so there’s already a wooden floor and windows all around. And—wait for it—a living space upstairs.”
“Get out.” I had also asked her to keep an eye out for apartments nearby, but I hadn’t dared imagine it would happen in one fell swoop.
Her smile was smug. “I swear, if you don’t take this place, I will, and I’m not even opening a ballet school.”
“What’s the catch?”
“It’s hidden behind a courtyard. There’s virtually no storefront, but you can get signage on the building right by the street.”
Not a deal breaker at all. In fact, it would be better not to have pedestrians peering in the windows during ballet classes. “It still seems too good to be true.”
She shrugged. “The upstairs needs work. It was some sort of weird lounge, which I think is code for people smoking pot all day.”
“Lindsey, there are going to be kids coming to the school.”
“I didn’t say you had to smoke pot. It has a kitchen and a bathroom. With a little renovation, it’s your new apartment.”
“Where exactly is this place located?”
“Lincoln Park, which is totally safe. I mean, you wanted to stick to the city, so we’re not talking white picket fences or anything. But it’s a cool area with families packed like sardines in condos.”
“With no outlets for their kids’ energy,” I finished.
“I knew you’d see the light. So I’ll set up a viewing?”
“As fast as you can. And tell them they have an eager renter ready to sign, so don’t go showing it around.”
“Are you? Ready to sign, I mean.”
“Absolutely.”
“And your brother?”
“He’ll deal with it,” I said firmly. “I’m sure he can handle the news that his sister is a grown-up doing grown-up things. He’s a big boy.”
